


Out of Exile

by caras_galadhon (Galadriel)



Series: Out of... [4]
Category: Lord of the Rings RPF
Genre: Anger, Angst, Bitterness, Drabble, Drabble Sequence, Estrangement, Heartbreak, Introspection, M/M, Memories, Past Relationship(s), Phone Calls & Telephones, Regret, Vignette
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2007-01-26
Updated: 2007-01-26
Packaged: 2017-12-22 07:01:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 101
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/910300
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Galadriel/pseuds/caras_galadhon
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>On the heels of his first round of laser treatment to remove his Fellowship tattoo, Sean receives a phone call from someone unexpected.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Out of Exile

**Author's Note:**

> A drabble, following directly from [Out of Sight](http://caras-galadhon.livejournal.com/278558.html) and [Out of Mind](http://caras-galadhon.livejournal.com/279547.html). Unlike [Out of Time](http://caras-galadhon.livejournal.com/283125.html) (the alternate ending to this tale), _this_ is the version of the story that I originally intended to write. Many thanks to [](http://savageseraph.livejournal.com/profile)[](http://savageseraph.livejournal.com/)**savageseraph** for giving it a quick once over and proclaiming it ready to fly.
> 
> _Reminder: This drabble follows directly on the heels of [Out of Mind](http://archiveofourown.org/works/910298), **not** [Out of Time](http://archiveofourown.org/works/910299). The latter is essentially another possibility, the flipside of this coin, if you will, but does not inhabit the same timeline as the story you're reading now._

_"Love? It's not about love, Sean."_

"Yeah. It's me."

With confirmation came whip-sharp lashings of memory brought back in an eyeblink. Yet he had no stream of scorn and scathing damnation, flaying emotion from meaning. Instead, silence settled, reigning over mind and mouth. Ice formed in burned-out fissures, flash-freezing every fantasized reply.

"I need to talk to you. ...Can we?" The waver was familiar, one Sean'd once heard in his own syllables, hurt and heartache laid bare as Viggo left without leaving.

Sean's throat closed around denial, resisting his refusal. Silence seemed safer.

"...Please?"

Pleading was _new_. His lips parted. "Yes."


End file.
